Three Times Peter Said Yes to Wendy
by Nightingalelynx
Summary: … and the one time he didn't. Peter never really could say no to Wendy, even though she didn't know it herself. Always. Except once.


**Disclaimer: Peter Pan, as always, belongs to J.M. Barrie, although I really would like a Peter of my own *wink wink*. But I don't. Heck, I don't even have a Captain Hook (I don't want one though) :(. I honestly think I've got the entire movie (real life version) memorized! I've watched it so many times! Sorry I haven't been on for a while, I've been busy and since I've just finished the Tigerlily and Wendy story, I thought I could take a break without you all getting mad at me xD haha. Enjoy the story! ~Nightingalelynx.**

**Pairing: Wendy & Peter Pan**

**Summary: **… and the one time he didn't.Peter never really could say no to Wendy, even though she didn't know it herself. Blinded and fooled by Peter's pretend cocky and selfish ways, Wendy never really realized that everything she asked for, Peter gave. Always. Except once.

**Three Times Peter Said Yes to Wendy (and the one time he didn't)**

**I. Another Type of Adventure**

You try to control your breathing and peek out from under your eyelashes, hoping Wendy will be fooled. You're thinking of all the adventures you could have, sneaking out after dark, defying Wendy, leaving her a surprise in the morning. Now if you could just ignore the itch on your face, she might be fooled into thinking you're asleep.

You manage to ignore the itch, but she's not fooled anyway.

With an exasperated sigh, she tip-toed past the Lost Boys' beds and arrived at yours, and tapped your feet. "Peter," she whispered. "Go to sleep!"

Seeing your cover blown, you sit up and scratch your face to your heart's content. "Do I have to?" You whine, indignant.

"Shh!" She scolds you.

"I don't want to go to sleep, Wendy-lady." You continue in a smaller voice. "I want to go have adventures _in the dark_—"here your voice goes up slightly, and she presses a small finger against your lips.

"Shh," she says in a gentler voice.

"And I want to ambush Captain Hook on his own ship, and I want to hear the mermaids sing to the moon and…" You're painfully aware of her disapproval. You gulp, but continue anyway. "I want to play hide-and-seek with Tigerlily and…"

That's it. You can't go on. Her pale blue eyes are staring intently at you, unreadable, impenetrable, fathomless. It frustrates you. "What?" You snap.

She doesn't answer, but brushes a strand of curly dirty gold hair out of your hair. The itch vanished. You pout, annoyed that she knew you were itching (in your mind it meant weakness).

"Oh, Peter," she murmurs. "What about the other adventures? The adventures in your own mind? You can have them right here, right now, at night, safe and snug in your bed."

"How is that possible?" You whisper back, trying not to break the moment by talking too loudly. "What kind of fun can I have without moving?" Your lips pull back in a slight sneer.

"You can dream," Wendy says earnestly, brilliant blue eyes aglow in the candlelight inside the hideout. "You can dream about things you've never done, about things you want to do again, about things that are impossible," she insists, an ethereal, euphoric look in her glossy eyes.

You're fascinated. You've never had a dream before, unless you count nightmares. Never something as wonderful as what Wendy was describing. But then your mind turns to creeping, swift and silent-footed through the forest under the moonlit sky. Your lips turn to a frown.

"But that's not what I want," you say.

"Please?" Wendy asks winningly. "Try it, Peter. For me?"

_Yes. _You think. _I'll try it for you, Wendy-lady._

You pout and groan and argue, but it was already set in your mind to try this wonderful thing that Wendy had described, even if it was only because it was her that asked. When she gives up and leaves (frustrated and rather infuriated), you snuggle into bed and try your hardest.

You fall asleep, and for the first time in your life, you dream happy dreams. You see Neverland, happy and Captain Hook free, you see springtime, bright and spritely. You see the Lost Boys, Tinkerbell, your friends. And Wendy. She's everywhere.

**ii. Falling**

You're hiding behind a tree, on the ground for once. Above, the Lost Boys are searching the treetops for you. You smile at your own cleverness. After all, who would think to look for the flying boy… on the ground?

You shuffle a little dirt with your grimy feet. Now you'll just have to wait for them to give up. Knowing the Lost Boys, it would be a long but worthwhile wait.

Suddenly, you hear delicate, faraway notes that soothe your ears, making them grin with pleasure. This was different from the mermaids' eerie, unearthly singing. This was homey, sweet… human.

You're curious, so you head over. The voice seems vaguely familiar. Careful to keep under the cover of the rich Neverland canopy, you make your way towards the sound, and at its source you find Wendy, sitting by the river and washing your clothes.

She's humming a tune you don't know, but you try to hum along anyway. You go off-tune almost immediately, splitting off in a squeak, and she looks up, surprised.

"Peter!" She says, and looks around furtively. "How long have you _been_ here?" She asks.

"Not long," you shrug. You pause, and shuffle your feet a little. "You have a nice voice, Wendy-lady. Will you sing another song for me?" You ask, smiling shyly.

"No! I mean… it's just a habit of mine. I used to take singing lessons, you know. With my mother, back in London," Wendy says wistfully, setting down a tunic way too small for you, which means that it must have been Michael's.

"I wish I could sing like you," you say, but it sounds more like a question than anything. Wendy looks up, pale blue eyes searching out yours. When they find them, her face lights up and a grin spreads across her face.

"I'll teach you," she says earnestly, turning around. You help her up, like a real English gentleman that she always speaks of. "We can start now!"

"No!" You reply, forgetting your manners in your panic. "No! Singing is for girls," you say with the best expression of contempt. "I couldn't possibly sing. I'm a boy, and always will be." In truth, you just didn't want to appear weak in front of Wendy.

"Girls aren't the only ones that can sing!" Wendy protests, propelling herself in your direction, but you take an evasive step back, making her trip and fall to the ground. You flinch, but manage not to catch her.

"Well… I don't." You say stubbornly, backing away a few more steps so that you were back in the shade of the tall, colourful Neverland trees. "I have to get back to the game." You look away, feeling traitorous. You shake that feeling away. After all, why should you feel that way? You haven't betrayed her.

Her blue eyes went bluer, a flush spread across her pale cheeks, and you give in. "Yeah, sure, fine. Just one lesson." You growl, annoyed that Wendy managed to get her way again. It's as if Wendy could do compulsion, and compelled you with those lively pale blue eyes.

Wendy brushed a lock of sun-lightened brown hair away from her face, and you could see forget-me-not blue eyes dancing. You notice for the first time, freckles on her perfectly upturned nose. Pink lips opened and closed as she babbled on about her mother's techniques. She leapt up from the ground and pulled you towards the river, and you notice that her knees were slightly muddy, and there was a small scrape on each one.

You silently promise yourself that the next time she falls, you would be there to catch her.

**iii. Three Little Words**

The Neverland summer sky was in high spirits today. Colourful clouds swirled across the sky, painting the forest below into a new, exciting rainbow mass of new adventures. It was a rosy hue at one part of the forest, a bluish color in another.

It was only at times, when Neverland was at its best that this would happen. Usually, this phenomenon happened when Hook and his band of pirates (and their sad thoughts dragging Neverland down) left to haunt another island. And when this happened, Peter Pan would be delighted, and drop everything at once to take off into the sky and fly among the brightly colored clouds.

Even the fairies were out in the sun today, comparing outfits. Tinkerbell was the star of the show today, with an iridescent glitter gown that she kept showing off to her friends. Courtesy of Wendy, of course.

The sound of Peter Pan's crowing suddenly filled the air, and the Lost Boys clawed their way through the air towards the sound. The fairies darted out of the way, turning their noses up haughtily at the Lost Boys' awkward flight and dirty hands.

Wendy waved a little 'hi' to the fairies as she passed, and the fairies wrinkled their noses at her. Then she, very smartly, complimented a beautiful purple dress, sending the fairies off into another heated debate, allowing Wendy to pass by without being pointedly ignored, which always hurt her feelings, no matter how many times Peter explained it to her.

"I know!" Peter cried before any of the Lost Boys could catch their breaths. "Let's play Find The Treasure!" **(AN: Sorry, I forgot what that game was called. D: )**

"What treasure? We didn't manage to get Hook's latest treasure chest!" Curly objected.

"I'm Peter Pan, and I'm the best there ever was. Do you honestly think," Peter flew close with a swish and grabbed Curly's collar. "That I would suggest that game without obtaining a treasure and hiding it first?" A sly smile curled across Peter's tanned face, and his blue-green eyes sparkled with mischief. The boy looked up at their leader with wide eyes.

"Oh." Curly's open-mouthed expression transformed into one of glee. "Then let's play!" He cried.

The other Boys echoed his approval. John punched a cloud, and feigned pain, making the Twins break out in joyous but rather hysterical laughter that was highly contagious.

A grin split Peter's face before he could suppress it. Not that Wendy would have wanted him to suppress a smile like that. "Let's do it!" He hollered. "First to find the treasure gets to keep it!" And he then sweeps off, faster than any Lost Boy can chase him. But there's one slender little figure in a nightgown that can. She flies after him, a little scared, a little cold, and absolutely very determined.

After a minute or two, Peter noticed his second shadow. "Wendy!" He cried, stopping in mid-air abruptly. "That's cheating! You're not allowed to follow me!"

"Oh Peter!" Wendy responded, trying to catch her breath. "You know no-one is ever going to find your 'treasure'. Whenever we play this game, you end up with the treasure, _every single time_."

"That's because I'm the best there ever was—"

"Peter." Wendy scolded.

"It's because of the cleverness of me that the Boys can never find the treasure—"

"Peter."

"I've hidden it in a great place—"

"Peter!"

"_What?" _

"It's _unfair_." Wendy said firmly, a knowing look in her pale blue eyes that Peter caught onto immediately.

"What is?" Peter asked. He squinted into the distance, away from Wendy, as if he was trying to find something that didn't exist. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun—either that, or from Wendy, who was looking at him with some intensity.

"The reason why the Lost Boys never find the treasure?" Wendy hinted.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Peter declared, fiddling with his fingers, and glancing back at Wendy for a split second before he turned away again.

"The fact that you carry the treasure away to some other place the moment one of the Lost Boys gets even mildly _close_ to the treasure." Wendy explained, a wry, slightly amused smile on her face.

"I do not!" Peter cried defiantly. "I never do that! That would be—"

"Cheating," Wendy interrupted. "Glad you know, Peter."

Peter slumped in defeat. "I'm sorry, Wendy. Please don't tell on me."

"Tell _who_?" Wendy smirked. Peter decided it was not a pleasant expression, especially on Wendy's usually sweet face. Still, his hopes were lifted, and he gazed at Wendy with wide, pleading green-blue orbs.

"The problem is that there's no one I can tell that will teach you a lesson, except maybe the Lost Boys," Wendy explained. "But you know they'll start a fight, not reprimand you. There's only me."

Peter gulped and waited. Wendy took a deep breath and continued.

"The Lost Boys kind of guessed already. They're not that stupid. They don't really know what to do, and someone told me that they're plotting a sneak attack on you to see if you have the treasure on you."

Peter's eyes grew wide at that realization. How stupid he must have seemed in front of the Lost Boys! Then he furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to think of a way to get out of it.

"Of course, you could hide the treasure somewhere until the Boys caught up with you." Wendy barrelled on. She knew she couldn't stop, or Peter's attention would go somewhere else.

"But you know how the Lost Boys search. They're thorough. Very, very thorough."

"Mhm. Why are you telling me this?" Peter asked bluntly. "If you're going to tell on me, hurry up. I've got to go. The Lost Boys are getting nearer to the treasure." Peter said arrogantly. "I can't let them find it. I've got to… I've got to…" He trailed off, not sure what to do.

"Can I help?"

Wendy could swear that Peter _spluttered_. He actually spluttered and choked on his words the moment those three little words left Wendy's mouth.

"—what?" He cried, shooting up a few meters higher into the air in his shock.

"I said, 'can I help'." Wendy repeated, grinning at his reaction.

Peter gaped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. A rather handsome fish, Wendy noted, but a fish nonetheless.

"Well, I… I don't know." Peter managed to say, the shocked expression still plastered to his face.

Wendy felt like an idiot, just standing there, waiting for an answer.

His face softened for a moment, before a beautiful smile spread across his face and onto hers, like a wonderful, heart-throbbing disease.

"Yes, Wendy." He whispered, just for the record. "You can help."

**iv. **

"I'm sorry I have to grow up, Peter." Wendy says sadly. She's standing on her windowsill, feet bare, hair blowing in the wind.

There's a lump in your throat. You don't say anything.

"We beat Hook, though. Once and for all." She said, smiling at you.

You feel betrayed. Why was she smiling? "Yeah," you choke out, feeling overwhelmed. You blink back tears. You don't want Wendy to remember you as the weak, crying boy standing outside her window.

"Wendy," her mother called from inside. "Would you like some ice cream, too?"

Wendy looked back. "Yes, mother. In a moment."

Your lips tremble, and you try to suppress it. Your friends have deserted you to grow up, with a family. It is the one joy you cannot have, and you know it.

"Peter?" Wendy asks tentatively. "Would you like to stay awhile for some ice cream?"

You glance past her, into the nursery full of your dearest companions, happily slurping ice cream that her mother was giving them. Laughter everywhere. It seemed _so_ tempting to just step inside, accept a bowl of ice cream, just for a little while.

You know if you let yourself in, you'll never be able to come back out. You'll never want to.

"No," you say softly, almost inaudibly. "I can't, Wendy." You both know what you mean.

Her face falls, although she knew what your answer was before you said it anyway.

You turn slowly, hoping she would call you back. She does.

"Peter!" She cried, and you turn immediately. "You won't forget me, will you?"

"Me?" You ask, like it isn't perfectly obvious. A lazy smile spreads across your face. "Forget? Never." You assure her. She smiles, tears in her eyes glittering. She wasn't trying to hide them, either, you notice. You feel strangely touched. Giving one last tender smile, you start to drift away again.

"Will you come back?" She blurts out.

"To hear stories. About me!" You say with a hint of your old arrogance and pride.

You're staring at her, memorizing every detail. Wild, curly brown hair blowing in the wind, pale blue eyes glittering with tears, a perfectly upturned nose, pink from the cold air. There's no one quite like her, you realize.

You'll miss her. You'll miss her more than Curly, and Tootles, or even Nibs, your brilliant battle planner. After all, one girl is worth more than twenty boys.

**How was that? Did you like it? Love it? Hate it? Leave me a review and tell me what you think! It means a lot. Thanks! 'Til next time ;) ~Nightingalelynx.**


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